XY Revolution

My skin is pink like a baby’s, and the nurses, Hanna and Shelly, have rubbed me all over with a balm which has sealed my pores again, and is returning the moisture to my starved body. I’m wrapped up in a cocoon of soft, fluffy blankets, because my body can’t keep its heat in very well yet.

“Freya?” I look up and Travis is peeking round the curtain.

I smile at him as wide as my face currently allows, which is not very wide. There's probably not much change in the expression really.

“Are you doing okay?”

I nod.

“Sorry about all this. I mean this had to happen, but your leg and you’ve just been shot…I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head. The throbbing in my foot has numbed and I can start to move my toes again. I gesture to it and give him the thumbs up.

“Yeah, Walsh said he sped that up so you wouldn’t have to deal with such a long bout of pain, though it probably intensified the tattoo-removal.”

I grimace and he coughs awkwardly.

“I think you should go back to training with the others though. You’re not the same kid you were at the start. You won’t attack them, and I’m better off working on the sides.”

I make a ‘why’ shape with my mouth.

“Because you fight on instinct. Most people I manage to get to a more technical level, because they’ve never really done it before. You’ve been out in the field without training; you have your own style already. Things you do just take me surprise, and when that happens, I lash out.”

“Tell me a story,” I croak and he chuckles.

“Sure, but then you need to sleep.”

I nod and close my eyes.

“The most beautiful woman in the world worked in a shoe factory. She had long green hair, and could pickpocket like a ghost. She was very strong, because her mother had been cruel. Her father took her away from the mother, and trained her to be someone powerful and in control.

“Her factory supplied the special boots nuclear plants would order for their workers. And one day, she was put on delivery duty. On her way out, some men cornered her with…less than honourable intentions. She waited for them to attack, but before that happened, a man with black hair came in and started throwing punches at the bad men. But he wasn’t a very good fighter, and was knocked out with one good hit to the head.

“She was more than capable of defending them both of course, and kicked everyone’s ass. She just had this unconscious guy with her, and she had no idea what to do with him. Fortunately he woke up, and she was able to get him home. One thing led to another, and they knew that they were in love. They got married, and had a son, and they were very happy.”

“What next?” I ask.

“You don’t want to hear that.”

My eyes fly open and I frown at him.

“When she was pregnant again, there was an accident at the nuclear plant, and he was killed. She moved to a studio apartment in Toronto that got broken into nearly every time they left the building. Her daughter was born very sick and for a while they lived nowhere. But she was strong and brave, and she nursed her daughter back to health and taught her son how to be strong too.

“She got a job to support them, and the son started working too, so they could afford a place to live. And they were happy. Then the XY Revolution happened, and it was no longer safe for women to be alone. So they started running. They ran for a year, across the Wastelands, and one day, the most beautiful woman in the world fell backwards, into a ditch full with nuclear waste, and her children watched as she burned away in front of them.

“And the boy tried to look after his sister. But the day he got stitched, he got to watch her be taken away by evil people who were going to do evil things to her. He still doesn’t know where she was taken, but he’s looking. Always. There are just bigger things for him to fight for right now.”



“You know, Freya, the hairnet really suits you,” Phil teases.

“Choose a snack, or get out,” I tell him and the others in the kitchen all laugh.

Eliza passes Phil a plate of cookies before placing a hand on my shoulder and saying, “Freya, he’s in here every day at some point. The meal portions just aren’t enough for a growing boy.”

“Growing boy? He’s older than me,” I say sceptically, returning to peeling the potatoes.

“It’s all about the muscles, Frey,” Phil informs me and I scoff.

“What muscles? You got beat up by a girl.”

“Every day I’m less convinced it was a girl, and more convinced it was a rabid monkey.”

“What’s a monkey?” I ask him, confused.

“A type of animal. They’re extinct now,” Eliza explains.

Phil says, “Anyway, the point is, you just caught me off guard and my muscles are totally impressive. You should take a closer look sometime.”

He winks at me and I frown at him.

“What are you doing?”

He laughs.

“Just checking something, never mind me.”

He takes a couple of cookies then leaves the kitchen.

“He’s very protective, Phil,” Eliza muses.

“I don’t understand.”

She just laughs at me.

“You know, training is so much less confusing that kitchen duty,” I inform her.

“But there’s no fun in that.”



It’s winter in the southern hemisphere. The sea at home is calm and the sky is grey. I know it’s silly, but I pull on a sweater because it’d be cold there. I am tracing over and pinching my foot, to make sure that I can feel it. Dr Walsh says there’s little chance of remaining nerve damage, but it’s still best to check.

I wouldn’t have this time to myself if I were on my regular schedule, but my skin is still too sensitive to deal with excess sweat, pressure and punches. So I’m stuck with kitchen duty and lessons with Pierre in the evenings for shooting practice. Thank god for that, otherwise I know I’d go insane.

“Freya?” I jump at the sudden sound.

Naomi is standing in my doorway. I didn’t even hear the door open.

“Sorry for startling you,” she says. “I did knock.”

I shake my head and smile, “No problem. I was just a bit…out of things.”

“I understand. I’ve just gotten word that Henriette wants to see you in her office.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll take you down now. You need my clearance still.”

I get to my feet and scoff.

“Yeah, I’m getting used to the fact that I’m still not trusted around here for some reason.”

She laughs and says, “It’s actually just a formality. You haven’t completed basic training yet, so you can’t be a full agent. Once you’re a full agent, your clearance is discussed and determined for each of the levels. It’s nothing personal – we just don’t make any exceptions.”

“How come?” I ask with a frown.

“Because we’re never sure if initiates are in this for the long haul. Basic training is brutal both mentally and physically, and not everyone can handle it. We can’t expose our secrets to those who end up leaving us, especially at Home Base.”

“I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“Most don’t. It’s one of those things you have to consider when you’re on the other side of it though. We need to always be on our guard. Even amongst ourselves, there is a level of distrust of everyone.”



“Freya,” Henriette greets before crossing the distance from behind her desk to give me a hug. I freeze with shock. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” I respond quickly.

She seems to realise why I’m so stiff and takes a step back.

“Sorry. I was worried,” she says, turning away and I can’t help but smile. I like the more human Henriette, even though it is strange and intimidating in a whole new way.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Honestly.”

“Are you sure?” She pours us both cups of tea and I take mine gratefully. “The removal process is extremely harsh.”

“My skin’s just a bit sensitive. Other than that though, everything’s great.”

“I’m glad to hear that then. Has Dr Walsh told you when you can go back to training? We really need to get you past basic training.”

“The day after tomorrow, I think.”

She nods, pleased, and then asks, “How is your leg doing?”

I frown and respond tentatively with, “Fine.”

“Good. And are you okay to continue training with Travis?”

“Of course I am. It was an accident. He sat with me that whole night, for crying out loud!” I can’t help but get angry at the implication that I am holding some sort of grudge against him.

She raises her hand to stop me and I take in a deep breath before saying, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Loyalty is a virtue. Just make sure you give it to those who deserve it. Agent Hunt is one of those I would trust with not only my life, but the lives of everyone here.”

It sounds much like her warnings earlier; about how there are those in the Resistance who are going to use me for their own ends, and those who are not who they say.

“He saved my life. He’s a bit of an asshole, but he’s a good guy.”

Henriette chuckles at that.

“I’m glad that your relationship with Travis is unaffected then.”

I nod and she then claps her hands together.

“Now I’m sure you’re wondering why I wanted to see you,” she says.

“I assumed it wasn’t for small talk,” I respond.

“You assumed correctly. Take a seat,” she gestures to the couches, “We’re going to be a while.”

I frown with confusion but sit regardless, clutching my cup of tea tightly despite how hot the ceramic is.

“The video has been extremely successful as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now,” she begins to explain. “We are out of the shadows, so to speak and it’s imperative that we get you out of basic training. Assuming your leg is not much more of a hindrance, you should be finished in approximately one month. Your instructors are very pleased – you have an aptitude for military combat. Even Travis is happy enough with your progress to reduce your hand-to-hand combat to regular levels now.”

I grin broadly at this. Feeling inadequate in a skill has always been my enemy.

“This allows you some extra time, in which I am going to tutor you in the necessary political strategy and intelligence. Once you’re out of basic training, Verity and Derek will teach you how to organise both covert operations, and greater Resistance assaults.”

“Sounds like I’m going to be busy.”

“No busier than you have been, I’m sure. It’s just your mind that is going to be exercised a bit more.”

My smile grows that impossible bit wider.

“Where do we start?” I ask and Henriette smiles fondly at me.

“The Chessboard.”

She brings out her tablet, taps a few things and the room goes dark. The view of the oasis disappears. The only source of light is the screen in her hands.

“As you were briefed before your mission, the UN organisational structure is comparable to that of a Chessboard. We knew very little besides that fact, though certain conclusions could be drawn from that alone. Subtlety is not the UN’s forte, which is good for us.”

“The intel from the mission was good though, wasn’t it?” I ask quickly. I didn’t risk my life - Xander couldn’t have died - for nothing.

“Relax, Freya. It was. We would’ve liked a bit more time to extract more information, but what we did get was good.”

Suddenly there’s a blue glow a foot away from us, from a chessboard three times the size of a regular set.

“A chess set has 32 pieces, split evenly into black and white. The UN operates on a roster system with this – the black and white sets take turns with the power. We believe that the King and Queen pieces represent each of the nations; Australasia, Asia, the Americas and Europe."

She flicks her hand and those pieces float off the board and to the side.

"Is there any difference between the two sets?" I ask before she can start again. A roster system would be a good way to ensure that power is relatively stable, considering how volatile the world has become, but to have each side equally in charge?

"From the intelligence we've gathered, no. Then again, we haven't had a whole lot to go on. Trying to breach UN security is extremely difficult. That's why we had to break Xander out, because of his connections," Henriette admits and I nod, prodding her to continue. "Xander's father is one of the Bishop pieces for the white set. There was proof in his office. We also managed to gain a list of ambassadors from the nations."

I perk up at that.

"Are those the leaders?"

Henriette shakes her head and my enthusiasm drops drastically.

"That's the beauty of the UN, there's no face to it; no leader. I imagine their identities are extremely well concealed - like mine for the Resistance. I actually took the idea from them, though that will change if we succeed."

"So who are these ambassadors?"

She smirks at this and I feel my blood run cold.

"Head Councillors. They are responsible for their countries' local councils. And three were killed during your mission."

She clicks her fingers and three pawns vanish.

"Are they easily replaced?" I ask.

"The job itself is not particularly difficult. But they have to report to someone higher than them, which means we have an opportunity to uncover the identities of our true targets."

I smirk back at her.

"You want one brought back alive."